


A Little Love for Lauren

by madeinessos



Category: The Bold Type
Genre: F/F, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11986359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeinessos/pseuds/madeinessos
Summary: It is the morning of the September issue board meeting, and Lauren is scheduled to present an article about safe-sex tips for non-straight ladies.





	A Little Love for Lauren

It is the morning of the September issue board meeting, and Lauren is scheduled to present an article about safe-sex tips for non-straight ladies.

Lauren hates presentations.

“My green juice, please.”

Her index cards are color-coordinated and neatly stacked next to her vitamin bottle. The pink ones are on top, the salient points for her presentation. Already internalized. Lauren picks up her red gel pen, slices out another bullet of her to-do list. Four bullets are already crossed out by 9:30 in the morning. Excellent.

She hates falling behind. Falling behind means stress. Stress means foul moods and gorging herself with rich chocolate doughnuts.

Lauren hates foul moods.

She runs a clipped red nail on the list of persons she might have to ring, in the event of pushback against her article. A 99% chance of such event taking place.

“My green juice,” she calls out again.

Sutton’s replacement, Taylor, shuffles in with full hands. “Here you go, Lauren.” She hands the cool bottle of green juice with a folded cream construction paper. “Oliver Grayson from fashion also told me to give this to you. Said you’ll have your phone off.”

Lauren sighs. She flips open the construction paper. Oliver’s writing is meticulous as ever. “Depending on how your presentation works out,” her best friend wrote, “shall we have a night out? Chocolate donuts or sesame balls with sushi, I’m in. Rock that burgundy suit, honey.”

A small smile touches her lips. She owes Oliver a fancy coffee, but maybe at the end of this week. Lauren can’t do coffee until after the presentation: coffee’s not good for her anxiety.

She opens her bottle and power-sips. The presentation is at ten, and it is already 9:40. The green juice is full of healthy things, flavored with a bit of milk and syrup. She is Popeye and this is her spinach. 

*

As always, Lauren is right. There is pushback. New York really is full of villains.

Kat Edison, to her surprise, was very vocal in her support for the article.

Oh, it isn’t a surprise that Kat Edison was vocal. She has always been. She’s never hesitant to use the _I_ in every sentence, and she never seems to have a nervous bone in her body. As someone who also owns the _I_ pronoun, Lauren appreciates that. 

Though it doesn’t make her any less annoyed with Kat Edison’s interruptions. And they both know it.

Lauren strides in her burgundy wedge heels. “A meeting with Jacqueline at eleven tomorrow,” she tells Taylor, who is busily typing on a phone. “Confirm that lesbian/bisexual book club in Gotham. I’m glad to see you’re not wearing stilettos anymore, those aren’t practical.”

“The book club is okay with an email inter – um, sorry?”

Lauren spots Kat Edison heading to the kitchen for lunch, laughing with Jane Sloan and Sutton. “And eight bottles of green juice, please.”

“Right.” Taylor doesn’t miss a beat. That’s good. “Eight bottles.”

“Keep them in the kitchen fridge. Put my name on them. Bring one with my lunch to the kitchen.”

Lauren does love a good infinity image. She turns a sharp right to the kitchen. 

“Aw, Adena’s making mango and cream parfait,” Kat Edison is saying. “Look, she’s got cream on her nose –”

She can almost hear the even sharper record scratch on the girls’ conversation. Sutton chokes on her cheese sandwich. Jane Sloan presses a glass of water to Sutton, and exchanges a look with Kat Edison. Kat Edison slowly lowers her phone and salad fork, raises her brows. 

Lauren can’t help the amused twitch of her lips. “Miss Edison. I wonder if I could have a word.”

“Sure.” Kat Edison gets to her feet. Her shoulders do not slouch in her blue blouse. “Of course.”

“That’s fine, you can go on eating.” To Kat Edison’s friends, Lauren says, “We’d like to talk alone.”

“We do?” Kat Edison says, as Lauren levels a look at Jane Sloan and Sutton which sends them shuffling away with their food.

“We do. About the safe-sex article.”

“Oh, okay.” Kat Edison casually picks at her salad. Her voice is casual. Too casual. “Would you like some fruit?”

“My assistant’s bringing my lunch.” Lauren will not touch fruit from the kitchen fruit bowl. They’re too ripe, they’re almost rotten. “I noticed that you support the article.”

“It’s worth supporting.” Kat Edison casually smiles. “I totally support it.”

Lauren taps her fingers on the table. She wishes she can get to the point. “That’s nice to hear. Since you’re the social media director, I would like to ask you if you could take a survey. To see if we really do have the numbers to support it. To make it worth publishing.”

Kat Edison gets that stubborn jut to her chin again. Lauren has never been so glad to see it. “It’s worth publishing regardless of the numbers – which, yes, I get it, this is business, it’s _Scarlet_. But it’s such b – it sucks.”

Taylor sweeps in with the chicken and vegetable rice mix. “Here you go, Lauren.”

“Thank you.” Lauren slides the plastic fork out of the wrapper. “It is frustrating,” she continues. “That’s why I am asking for your assistance.”

Kat Edison’s answer is lightning-quick. “I’ll do it.”

For several moments, they eat in blessed silence. Some of her stress eased with Kat Edison’s agreeing, Lauren sinks into feeling every moment with some relief. Lauren purposefully chews at her chicken bits, letting the seasoning satisfy every surface of her tongue. She delicately fingers the pearl buttons on her burgundy suit. Oliver designed the ensemble for Lauren’s girlfriend to make, and both of them were very strict about the instructions for washing it.

“I really like that article.”

Lauren looks up. 

Kat Edison is very intent on her ice lettuce. “I just thought you should know.” Then she meets Lauren’s eyes with a determined gleam. “It’d be helpful for lots of other young women out there.”

Lauren does not make it a point to come out to every person she meets, nor does she hide who she is either. It’s something she has been comfortable about for ten years now. She does not know if she should change it, though. If taking the step to normalize it would – although, how does one normalize it – although, this article would be a step forward, wouldn’t it? 

Lauren shakes herself out of it. She’s not going there again, no existential crisis right now. Lauren doesn’t know if she could survive this week with that self-debate again on top of this article pushback.

She does know, however, a baby gay when she meets one. Or, at least, a questioning woman.

“I know,” Lauren tells Kat Edison, lightly. “That is what we are doing here, isn’t it.”

*

Kat Edison delivers the survey data. 

It is another board meeting, and Lauren is feeling so on fire with the green juice that she almost relishes the look the board’s faces. “It turns out that we have a significant portion of readers who are not heterosexual.” 

She strides across the screen, directing the pointer at the pie chart. At the far end of the room, she can see Kat Edison’s bright satisfied smirk.

“Here we have the population and sample size. And here we have the numbers on lesbians, questioning women, bisexual women, and pansexual women.”

*

The board gives the go-ahead for the article.

Jacqueline energetically shakes Lauren’s hand. “You never disappoint, Lauren. I will always remember your first day here as a writer.”

“When I was at the end of this table, and you were the executive editor?” Lauren can barely recall any of it now. She was so nervous, and drank too much coffee.

“I seem to recall you pitched for a feature on a lesbian café back then. That’s bold for 2001.”

Lauren raises her brows. “I seem to recall it was soundly rejected. As were the next three pride parade coverages.”

With a gentle squeeze of Lauren’s hand, Jacqueline says, “But not the next seven and the same-sex marriage landmarks. And not this.” 

The coldness on her fingertips is starting to recede. Lauren stands by her chair for a moment, her palms flat on the table, and takes a slow breath. 

The conference hall is full of chatting people. A brisk September sun warms the glass walls, and near one of them Kat Edison is grinning down at her phone screen and occasionally blowing kisses at it, while Jane Sloan and Sutton huddle close enough to casually shield her.

Lauren finally opens her own phone. She fires a text to Oliver: _I owe you coffee topped with cream and whiskey. Sushi and sesame balls tonight?_

She’s almost out of the conference hall when Oliver replies. _Congrats, honey. So what is the first safe-sex tip?_

_Check the nails, hers and yours._

**fin**


End file.
